Cooking up connections

GB: We see the atelier as a space to shape ideas, competitions, and projects, and to do so collaboratively. Other people bring their ideas, which can complement and enhance our own. In this sense, the atelier functions as a shared creative hub.

JB: For example, when we work with other professionals, we sometimes invite them to join us for lunch. Our atelier is part of a shared space, and we always cook lunch together. These lunches, which can stretch into an hour or two, often lead to discussions about society, global issues, or our projects. It’s a great way to connect on a more personal level.

GB: We cook together, and it creates an opportunity to get to know each other differently. Often, the conversation touches on architecture, their work, or ideas about a competition. It’s a more relaxed way to engage and understand their perspectives.

JB: It’s also about building a social connection. Inviting someone to lunch serves as an icebreaker. Most people are used to formal meetings in designated rooms, but we don’t have a meeting room. Instead, we have a shared kitchen where we cook, eat, and discuss. 

GB: It’s funny how such a simple activity can change the dynamic. Honestly, creative ideas rarely come during formal meetings. They come when you’re brushing your teeth, doing the dishes, going for a walk, or talking casually with someone. Meetings can feel rigid and one-dimensional, which doesn’t suit me.

Respond to today's complexity

JB: Our background is centred on a world where architecture is highly referential. It's often more focused on the formal aesthetics of a building—how it looks—rather than on its substance or its role in society. We try to find a different approach to it.

GB: During our studies at ETH, it wasn’t about politics or addressing contemporary issues. It was more about cultural heritage—a shared history that we were taught to look back on and draw from. Politics or societal positioning weren’t part of the conversation. For me, it felt like the focus was very much on where architecture comes from, rather than on where it should go. Over time, we realised that this approach wasn’t enough to address the challenges of today or the future. 

JB: The exciting thing about architecture is that you're designing something that doesn’t yet exist. It’s inherently about imagining a future world or society. Architecture should address issues like ecological and social challenges, not just preserve the story of heritage for its own sake. To do that, you have to participate in shaping the conversation, like through competitions or other opportunities for innovation.

When entering competitions, we strive to remain pragmatic, developing a project that meets the brief while thoughtfully questioning certain aspects. Most of our work is on competitions, particularly open ones, so it involves a lot of exploration. We don’t spend much time analysing the jury or worrying about how many competitors there are. It’s more about following our interests. We always consider practical and ecological factors, like avoiding projects that require long distances or extensive travel. Our focus is on designing buildings for people, not for cars or disconnected, flashy purposes. 

GB: We want to engage with projects that impact a wide group of people and contribute to society—like social housing, public spaces, and public squares. We’re particularly interested in tackling complex topics. The world isn’t simple, and the more intricate the challenge, the more engaging it becomes. For us, it’s not about overestimating or underestimating the competition. It’s about focusing on finding creative solutions to real problems.

Challenging the norms, breaking traditions

GB: A few months ago we entered a competition for the Kiosk Bürkliplatz, in the heart of Zurich, at the end of its most expensive street, right beside the National Bank and Bahnhofstrasse. This space is unique—it’s both a meeting place for everyday Zurich residents and a symbol of the city’s upper class. The brief was to design a new kiosk for this highly significant location, a project that presented an opportunity to address the intersection of social and public space issues.

We collaborated with two Zurich-based artists, Lutz & Guggisberg, to combine architecture and art in a way that tackled these challenges. Together, we aimed to create a solution that made public space more visible and inclusive within the city’s fabric. The result was a playful, colourful, and dynamic box—a kiosk with a changeable facade that could adapt and engage with its surroundings. This approach allowed us to inject creativity into a serious and socially charged context. We noticed that many kiosks built around the lake followed a rather conservative design—nothing particularly memorable. We wanted to create something more playful and joyful, something that would stand out and stick in people’s memories. 

There’s also an old bathroom on this site, historically significant as one of the first public toilets for women. It was designed to look like a chalet, aiming to make women of that era feel comfortable using public facilities. While this history is interesting, we found it awkward to use such a design as a reference for a new kiosk. Instead, we decided to create something entirely new and distinct—a kiosk that stands on its own as a contemporary piece, free from historical mimicry. 

JB: When we designed the kiosk, we knew we weren’t likely to win. It’s a very colourful box, quite different from the type of architecture people are used to seeing. The collaboration itself was also new for us. The artists we worked with have a freer, more open approach; they don’t overthink whether something might be ‘too much’. They’re willing to provoke, and we found that refreshing and interesting. We deliberately gave a lot of creative space to the artists—almost the entire facade. It was a true collaboration, but also a learning experience for us.

Turning asphalt into a biotope

GB: We’re really focused on reuse because it’s important to value what’s already here. It’s not just about renewal but also about reusing and preserving existing qualities. What was interesting about the competition for the Walther-Bringolf-Platz in Schaffhausen was that it allowed architects to join—not just urban planners and landscape architects. The site itself was a car park covered in asphalt, and we decided we didn’t want to introduce new materials. Instead, we reused what was there. Our proposal involved removing the asphalt and restoring the existing plaster, avoiding the need to add any new plaster to the site. 

JB: The square was already functional. Everything worked, but what was missing were trees, greenery, and plants. So, instead of redoing everything from scratch, we focused on improving the square by adding greenery and reorganising the existing stones. It was about making the smallest possible intervention to enhance the space’s quality while addressing ecological concerns.

GB: The site also had a historical layer. It was once home to a monastery, but instead of recreating the outlines of the old walls, we focused on the current history—the infrastructure beneath the ground, like pipes. Using two contrasting colours of as-found plaster, we showed where new sections were added. It’s a different approach to representing history, not in terms of heritage but as a contemporary intervention.

JB: In the design, we were inspired by a Japanese textile technique called sashiko, which is used to repair fabric by stitching geometric patterns to mend holes. It combines the old with the new, creating something functional and beautiful. We applied this concept by arranging colourful stones in geometric patterns, blending the old and new elements of the square into a cohesive design.

GB: The interesting thing with projects like this is that you don’t really get to choose whether to add more greenery—it’s just an obvious opportunity. Increasing green spaces creates habitats for birds, butterflies, and other animals, allowing them to decide if the city is liveable for them too. We see the city as a biotope, not just for humans but for all living beings. Our goal is to prepare surfaces and structures to allow plants and animals to flourish.

Densifying without displacement

JB: Finding affordable rental flats in Switzerland, especially in Zürich, is increasingly difficult. Many of these flats are in mid-20th-century buildings that are now up for renewal. In competitions, there’s often a push for densification—adding more flats—and the briefs often assume that keeping the existing structure isn’t feasible. But we’ve found that many of these existing buildings already meet the modern size requirements for flats.

We’ve developed solutions where we add one or two floors to existing buildings instead of demolishing them. This approach isn’t just about ecological considerations. It’s also about preserving the social fabric—keeping existing residents in their homes with affordable rents. Working with existing building stock allows us to maintain social communities, support social sustainability, and address the pressing challenges of today and the future. For us, it’s less about treating these buildings as heritage and more about ensuring they meet current and future needs.

GB: It’s about maintaining social structures and sustainability—both socially and structurally.

JB: We mostly start by looking at what's already there and assessing if it makes sense to work with the existing structures. For example, there was this one competition near a busy road with heavy traffic and noise. We began with an analysis of the noise impact on the existing buildings. It turned out that most of the houses weren’t significantly affected, except those parallel to the street. In those cases, the living and sleeping rooms faced the noisy road, making them less liveable. To fix this, we’d have had to completely reconfigure the floor plans—moving bathrooms to the south, shifting staircases, and more. It quickly became clear this wasn’t feasible, especially not in an ecological way. So, we decided to demolish those specific buildings and replace them with dense, high-rise structures. This approach freed us to preserve two-thirds of the houses, add extra floors to them, and still achieve more flats than the competition required.

GB: By keeping the old houses, we ensured sustainability by avoiding unnecessary ground disruption. This approach also maintained continuity in the outdoor spaces and urban design. Even with these constraints, we were able to increase the number of flats by about 70 percent. This allowed us to meet the competition’s demands while minimising interventions on multiple levels.

Balancing compromise and conviction

GB: I don’t see myself as someone who makes decisions for others. I find it more interesting to present a proposal that asks questions: Are we on the right path? Have we overlooked something? It’s not about moralising—that’s not our role—but rather about offering a perspective. For example, is it okay to prioritise complete renewal? Is it acceptable to make such significant interventions on the ground? We aim to create proposals that spark discussion and reflection, and hopefully, at some point, someone decides in favour of them. When that moment comes, I want to ensure the proposal aligns with our values. I don’t want to work on something I don’t believe in—it’s just not enjoyable. For us, it’s essential to identify with what we’re creating.

JB: We want to work on projects that genuinely interest us, where we can invest our ideas and thoughts. We’re not great at doing projects where we compromise just to win, because those tend to lack the strength or clarity we value. They often end up being neither here nor there, and that’s not fulfilling for us.

GB: We’re very much open to compromises—it’s just about understanding which compromises to make. It’s a good strategy to find the balance between making compromises and standing firm. We don’t feel the need to be radical in our approach. The key is to avoid assuming you know what others want—that’s a mistake. It’s not my role to predict or pre-empt someone else’s decisions. If we started doing that, we might as well stop altogether. Our job is to create and present proposals, not to decide for others.